Adam tried to concentrate on the flashes of countryside he could see through the open window; sweeping moorland and green hills that gradually gave way to smooth roads and wooded valleys. Birds called from the trees and the sound of hoofbeats was regular and soothing; but he felt anything but calm.
How could he be calm when Esme sat opposite him. Close enough to touch, but so far away—in every way that mattered—that he might have been back in the highlands.
How could he be calm when Jonah had insisted he travel with them to Wolvesley, for reasons that were far from clear? Thinking of his role as Esme’s protector, Adam had offered to travel in the second carriage so he might keep a close eye on Crispin. But Jonah had waved his suggestion away.
“The door will be locked from the outside,” he said airily. “With guards stationed at either end of the carriage. You need not concern yourself with Crispin.”
Then why am I here?
Adam stretched his legs as much as he was able in the confined space of the carriage interior. Every time they wentover a bump in the road, he was obliged to grip the window ledge, for fear of barreling into either Jonah or Esme—both of whom were clearly well-practiced in the art of travelling by carriage and seemed hardly to notice the jolting.
Next time he took a long journey, whatever the circumstances, he would insist on riding a horse.
If there ever is a next time.
Much as Adam took care not to let his emotions get the better of him, he could not help a flicker of fear about this turn of events. He recalled that long-ago day when Callum had spoken with him in the solar, and how sound had drifted through the thin walls from the great hall.
His skin prickled with apprehension.
How much does Jonah know of my relationship with Esme?
Esme had given fleeting mention to Adam’s role in rescuing her from Crispin’s advances, but Jonah had hardly seemed to notice. Not that Adam was looking for acclaim, nor even thanks. But would this be enough to save him, he wondered.
Or am I also to face the wrath of the Earl of Wolvesley?
It would have been better if he rode to Kielder Castle, just as he had sworn to do last night. But even as the thought occurred to him, he knew the sentiment was false. He could have no more abandoned Esme this morn, than he could have sawn off his own leg.
For better or worse, his fate was entwined with the de Nevilles.
Jonah was looking at him again. Though young—Adam counted anyone who had seen less than thirty summers as young—his eyes held both wisdom and cunning. Adam fixed his gaze out of the window but could not shake the feeling of being watched.
Enough!
He swallowed and turned to face the young lord. “How far is there still to travel?”
Jonah thought for a moment, his head on one side. “You are best asking this question of Esme. She is more familiar with the journey than I am.”
Adam took a breath and lifted his gaze to Esme. She met his eyes squarely. “When we cross the bridge, we are almost there.”
This was hardly helpful. But Adam could not feel cross with her answer. Not when so much anxiety showed in her face.
“Jonah, are you certain we are doing the right thing?” She pulled at a loose thread on her sleeve, unaware how lovely she looked with her golden hair shining over her shoulders.
“Under the circumstances, I am certain we are doing the only thing we can,” came the reply. Jonah folded his arms and made a show of closing his eyes.
“That is hardly reassuring,” she retorted.
Adam could not help silently agreeing with her. When her familiar blue eyes turned beseechingly toward him, his heart turned over.
But what could he say?
It was safer to follow Jonah’s lead and close his eyes, letting his head tip back against the headrest. It was uncomfortable, but it gave him the space to think.
Or to fret.
If things went against him, he must get word to Callum, he decided.
Esme would be safe in the bosom of her family.But would he?
